


You surprise me (in all fashions)

by InLust



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Comfort Sex, Drinking, F/F, Margaery's signature smirk, Modern AU, Sexual Tension, bonding over trash shows, love hate relationship, roommates au, roommates that hate each other, terrible roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InLust/pseuds/InLust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Honestly, they were third years, Sansa thought that everyone would’ve grown up immensely. Especially a beautiful girl like Margaery Tyrell. </em>
</p>
<p>Margaery is the worst roommate ever. Everyone wanted to live with her it just happened that Sansa ended up being her roommate. Friday nights belonged to Sansa because she could catch up on her tv shows and not care that Margaery was off doing some sort of debauchery elsewhere. It doesn't go as planned and she really wants to wipe that smirk off of Margaery's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You surprise me (in all fashions)

**Author's Note:**

> I am smut trash and i regret absolutely nothinggggggg

Her alarm goes off at precisely 7:50am.

Sansa reaches from under her covers to slam it off. She wills herself to get up to no avail.

In the back of her mind, she knows what’s going to happen next and it frustrates her to no end. Like clockwork, thirty seconds go by and she can hear the comforter being tossed and shuffling of feet begin. In a second, the light and fan to the bathroom click on followed by a low whir before she hears the door shut.

_Bloody_ …

Sansa picks up her head and looks across the room. The bed is empty.

Then the shower goes off.

_Margaery knows I have class_! Sansa groans in frustration as she throws herself out of bed. She knows she isn’t going to have enough time for her to shower and get breakfast. She throws on her clothes and pours a bowl of cereal in their mini kitchen.

Legitimately, 30 minutes go by and her roommate isn’t out of the bathroom yet. Sansa has class in about 10 minutes and she isn’t going to class with morning breath.

Nearly pulling her hair out, Sansa just puts her bowl into the sink and walks over to the door and knocks.

“Margaery! I need to brush my teeth!” She tries to remain as polite as possible but raising her voice enough to let out some frustration.

There isn’t a response right away. Sansa raises her hand to knock when the door opens and the steam rolls out.

Her roommate, Margaery, strolls out with a towel wrapped around her that barely goes below her ass, dripping wet, with a smirk on her lips. “Sorry about that.” Sansa is sure she _isn’t_.

Sansa doesn’t say much else because it gets hot between them and she’s not in the mood to entertain Margaery’s _annoying_ tendencies. She rushes in and nearly slips on the wet ground to brush her teeth and haul her ass to class.

When she gets back from class and work at the end of the day to shower, she tries not to shriek while Margaery is in the room because the tub is littered with golden brown hair that could **only** be from her _roommate_.

Honestly, they were _**third** _ years, Sansa thought that everyone would’ve grown up immensely. _Especially_ a beautiful girl like Margaery Tyrell.

It was fateful that she and Margaery were placed as roommates together because every other girl in her class wanted “the beautiful, sexy, smart Margaery Tyrell” to share a room with. In actuality, it was a nightmare. Whatever vision they imagined of Margaery was _nothing_ like reality.

Margaery was a mess. A slob. Her wardrobe, while enormous, littered their shared bed space floor. Her hair, constantly everywhere, she shed like a cat. Her beautiful brown eyes, two words: _contact_ _lens_ , and her solution managed to drip all over their sink.

Margaery wasn’t smart. At least that’s what it seemed to Sansa. All things in consideration, Margaery barely spent time in their room, her textbooks also littered across their shared bed space and living space (and on occasion, their kitchenette). Whenever, Margaery was in the room she was “ _entertaining study buddies_ ” (Sansa had the misfortune of walking in on her beloved roommate in between the legs of a young heiress who shall continue to remain nameless for the sake of their political careers). _Honestly, when did Margaery get any work done in between dinners, socials, and clubbing?_

They were supposed to be _adults_. Margaery should really be acting like it, instead of wasting her time in university.

Sansa’s mother had told her to change roommates if she disliked Margaery that much. However, it wasn’t like Margaery was a terrible human. In a way, they seemed to coexist in their mutual dislike.

Margaery was a true artist in her respect. Diplomacy was finely tuned in her genes, Sansa discovered quickly.

“ _Sansa, there’s a spot of toothpaste in the sink_ ,” she would begin very neutrally. “ _Do you mind getting it?_ ” Followed by her smile that would make girl’s panties drop apparently (not that it worked on Sansa).

Then there was, “ _Sansa, the dishes are stacked a bit high. Could you get them?_ ” Sansa was going to get to them regardless.

Or the **worst** was when, “ _Sansa, we have guests coming by. Should we clean it, then?_ ” She blatantly pointed to Sansa’s side of the room once and Sansa nearly threw a fit.

Sansa hated it when Margaery called her name. Because she was sure Margaery knew that it made her twitch in annoyance.

_Whatever. **Fuck** Margaery._

Sansa got out of the shower and slipped the towel around her body. She wipes her hand across the fogged mirror and inspects herself.

_I should get more sleep. Maybe if Margaery didn’t come stumbling into the room at 2am three days out of the week, I’d be able to sleep through the night._

Sansa sighs to herself before opening up the cabinet for her lotion. She moves to undo the towel and dry herself, when the door suddenly swings open.

Sansa shrieks in surprise as she tries to cover herself. She backs herself towards the corner where the tub meets the wall and wills her heart to stop trying to jump out of her chest.

“Margaery!” she yells.

Margaery walks into the bathroom without a care in the world before looking at Sansa. Her eyes rake up and down her body before she purses her head and nods in approval. “Come on, nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Sansa feels her whole body blush the minute Margaery looks at her. She does not need the look of approval from the princess. “Get out!” she yells.

“Aw, sweetling, I am just here to get my foundation,” Margaery says playfully as she opens the cabinet to pull something out. She shows it to Sansa to prove she wasn’t lying. “You really shouldn’t hide your body, it’s quite _fit_.” She winks at Sansa, making her blush even harder.

“Margaery, if you are not out this second, I will do something I will _regret_ ,” Sansa grits through her teeth. Her knuckles begin to white as she clenches the towel even harder.

“Is it something we’d _both_ **enjoy**?” Margaery’s eyes twinkle at her innuendo as she moves closer to her.

Sansa gasps, scandalized that Margaery got that out of her threat. She moves to push the brunette out of the bathroom. _“Aaagh!”_ She yells in frustration as she shuts the door on Margaery, who is still standing there with her irritating smirk. “You, **Margaery Tyrell** , are a _scoundrel_!” She yells through the door.

All she hears in response is Margaery’s haughty laughter through the door.

Sansa spends all the time in the world drying herself and lathering herself in lotion until she hears Margaery leave the room. The whole time she tries to cool down her heated body and calm her rampant heart. She hates that Margaery gets under her skin so easily.

She cracks open the door and thanks the Old Gods that Margaery is nowhere in sight. She rushes to throw on her fleece pajamas and brushes her hair.

It’s Friday. The only day out of the week that she was sure Margaery would not make an appearance until the next morning. Surely with the conquest of the week. Sansa tries not to gag at the thought and ignores the clench in her stomach.

Sansa orders a box of pizza and texts Sam to get her a pack of beer. Luckily, Sam was very understanding that once Sansa was in her fleecy pajamas that she was in no mood to go out again. Besides, she doesn’t want to be caught with beer while Margaery was around. The _princess_ clearly had a refined palate for alcohol in vodkas and wines that Sansa would roll her eyes at.

Not that she cared what Margaery thought.

_Finally!_

After receiving her pizza and beer. She offered Sam to come in but apparently he was having a night out with Gilly. More for her.

Sansa curls up on the couch in their living space and happily places the food and beer on the coffee table sitting in front of the couch. She throws her comforter on the couch and sets up her laptop.

With Margaery gone on Friday, Sansa finally gets the room completely to herself. Regardless of the mess, regardless of homework, regardless of people. She has one day a week to herself, Fridays she stays in and catches up on _Teen Wolf._

She knows it’s a terrible show to watch. But how can she not watch it? The cast was hot. The story was getting good. It was a show she could let her brain melt to.

Except her brain wasn’t melting. She was _terrified_.

Flashing images. Creepy surgeons, _What the hell, season 5?!_

She shouldn’t have turned off the lights. She should’ve let them on. It’s not like Margaery was the--- _nope, she’s not here. I am here and she will not ruin tonight._

She’s starting the third episode, fourth beer, and halfway through her pizza when the door suddenly swings open and she shrieks.

“Oh my god!!!” the object of her fear shrieks back. Something clinks on the ground.

Sansa turns around beer in hand and realizes it’s Margaery at the door, bent over to pick up her keys. She quickly turns to slap her laptop screen down as Margaery comes up to turn on the lights.

_Fuck_. Sansa has half a mind to chug her beer and dispose of it but it’s Margaery that’s intruding on her night.

“Why on earth are you in the dark?” Margaery asks with curiosity as she kicks off her stiletto heels.

Sansa tries to ignore Margaery’s shapely figure in the red slinky dress as she walks towards their kitchen area.

“What’re _you_ doing here?” Sansa can’t help but shoot back defensively. It was supposed to be _her_ night in. “Aren’t there conquests to be made? Lovers to be had?”

Margaery doesn’t say anything as she make her way to the fridge to pour herself a glass of water. She practically chugs it before she answers, “Rather be at home right now.”

Sansa can’t tell if Margaery sounds sad or relieved. She narrows her eyes regardless at the brunette. “Are you _sure_?”

The princess doesn’t say anything really, just holds her head high, pours herself another glass of water, and walks over to the couch.

“Now, tell me,” the impish smile returns and Sansa tries to think of a way to wipe it off her face. “What’re you _watching_?” Margaery’s almond eyes shine under the light of their room with mirth.

Sansa blushes at how close they were sitting. “Nothing!” she denies quickly.

Margaery leans closely to the red head. She whispers, conspiratorially, “Was it porn?”

Sansa’s cheek heat up immensely as she leans away from Margaery, vehemently protesting. “You are disgusting!”

Margaery merely chuckles to herself before sipping her water.

It’s strange that Margaery doesn’t say anything else. She just patiently sits there. Sansa takes the moment to study the other girl and realize there was more than she was letting on. Margaery is smiling but it’s all just a facade that continues to slip away with each sip of her water. She looks withdrawn and upset.

Sansa bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she dislikes her roommate, she doesn’t like it when people are upset.

“Want a beer?” Sansa offers softly.

Margaery raises an eyebrow at Sansa as she reaches beside her and picks up a beer from the case on the floor to hand to her. “ _Northern Ale_?” Margaery asks.

Sansa is colored surprised that there’s no snide or arrogant remark about her takes in beer. Margaery takes it and just as Sansa is about to offer her the bottle opener, Margaery surprises her again by twisting it off with ease.

“How did you---” the question falls short when Margaery takes a large swig of the beer with ease. “ _Wow_ …”

Margaery finishes her swig and looks at Sansa in confusion. “What is with that face? Never seen someone drink beer before?” she asks with amusement.

“I’ve never seen _you_ drink beer,” Sansa dumbly responds with. She is mighty impressed and well-- _damn_. No one south of Winterfell ever drinks Northern Ale. “Let alone, _Northern_ _Ale_.”

Margaery smiles almost sardonically as she takes another swig. “So! What’re we watching then?” she evades successfully.

Sansa purses her lips because as much as she knows Margaery is upset on some weird level of hers, she doesn’t want to make her feel better at her expense.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Margaery scoffs as she leans forward to open the laptop back up.

“Nooo!” Sansa reacts too slowly.

The laptop reads as being woken and the sound of American accents fill the room followed by a low growl. The screen flicks on completely and the episode she left off on was playing across the screen.

Margaery shrugs as she leans back. “This is a great episode. No wonder you were terrified half to death when I walked in.” Margaery isn’t evenly remotely surprised at Sansa’s choice in shows.

However, Sansa’s jaw drops and eyes widen at her roommate sitting next to her.

“ _You_ watch **this**?!”

Margaery turns her head at her and brings her index finger up to her lips. “Our little secret,” she says simply.

Sansa is still stunned by this. It’s like her roommate was a completely different person. Wildly different. Margaery was always “the stud,” “the popular girl,” “the prettiest girl,” but Margaery was clearly more than that.

After a second, Sansa finally shuts her mouth before a fly goes in and turns to her computer screen as she drinks her beer. “ _No spoilers,_ okay?”

“Would it bother you if I did?” Margaery smirks at her and this time it doesn’t bother Sansa one bit. Sansa pushes her playfully and tells her to just watch.

Sansa is at the edge of her seat when they’re in the lab and Tracy is rendered unconscious. She gets squeamish when something starts crawling underneath the skin on Tracy’s back. And all but shrieks when Tracy comes to life that she jumps to Margaery.

“Why didn’t you _warn_ me?!” Sansa shrieks as she grabs onto the brunette.

Margaery just laughs. “You said you didn’t want _spoilers_!” Her arm comes up around Sansa’s shoulder comfortingly. “Just keep watching, it gets better.”

Sansa doesn’t say anything when Margaery’s arm settles around her. Strangely enough, there are no alarms going off in her head. So she sits there, sipping her beer, cozied up next to her roommate, watching Teen Wolf.

A couple episodes later and polishing the last of the beer between the two, Sansa finally has the guts to ask, “What happened tonight?”

Margaery’s cheeks are pink from the ale as she polishes the last bottle off. “Didn’t know you cared, Sansa,” she flirtatiously looks over at her. There’s a sad smile on her face that makes Sansa’s frown deeper.

Sansa knows that tone whenever Margaery says her name. She hates it. She gets infuriated by it. “Don’t say my name like that.”

Margaery smirks. “Like what, _Sansa_?”

The redhead picks up her head, forgetting Margaery’s arm was still around her. “Like _that_!” She groans in frustration.

“You’re going to have to use your words, _Sansa_ ,” Margaery reiterates. She’s doing it intentionally and she knows it.

“You _know_ what you’re _doing_.” Sansa argues, trying to remain calm. She feels a heat rise in the pit of her stomach as she stares at Margaery. She looks beautiful right now. The thought gets pushed to the back of her mind. “What happened that would send my roommate dearest home early from her designated night of debauchery?”

Margaery rolls her eyes and stands up. “I think you’ve had too much to drink,” she continues to evade. She starts to walk towards her side of their bed space.

In all honesty, Sansa doesn’t even know why she’s curious. She helped Margaery feel a _bit_ better. That was what she intended to end the night on. Not drunkenly asking her about her _feelings_.

“Look Margaery, we’re not friends, I understand,” Sansa begins as she stands up to follow her roommate. There’s some sort of pull. “But you look upset. The Margaery Tyrell I deal with on a daily basis is a constant flirt, annoyingly diplomatic roommate, and sly devil.”

Margaery seems to register all of those subtle insults but all she does is share an amused smile as she rifles through her pile of clothes for her pajamas. “Would you preferred it if I hit on you right now?”

Sansa suddenly heats up. That was not her intention. Had she been sober, she probably could’ve easily brushed it off but the thoughts creep into her mind. _Margaery is gorgeous._

Margaery finds her pajamas and throws it on the bed. Just as she reaches for the hem of her dress, she stares at Sansa.

She shouldn’t have hesitated for so long because Margaery is slowly walking towards her with that coy smile. “No.” Her voice cracks and Sansa recoils. “ **No** ,” she says again stronger than before.

Margaery is in her space. It’s then that she feels her heart beating wildly in her chest again. It’s like she’s completely naked and Margaery’s walking in on her again. She tries not to shake but her breath is ragged. Margaery’s waves are coming down evenly and enticingly. Her makeup is beautifully subtle and makes her face shine. The worst part is that Margaery is 5 inches shorter than her but still makes Sansa feel...shy.

“ _Sansa_.”

This time Sansa involuntarily shivers at the sound of her name falling from Margaery’s lips.

There is that annoying- _I fucking hate that smirk!_

Sansa feels Margaery’s hands caressing her arms, moving up slowly. _God, I hate you._ “I can’t believe you’re hitting on me right now,” Sansa tries to brush off, sounding amused, when really the heat that was pooling in her stomach now drops in between her thighs.

Margaery’s eyebrow quirks at her. “You’re not stopping me,” she points out. Her hands come up to the hems of her pajama top. “ _Sansa_ ,” Sansa twitches at her name, “you look quite hot. Should I take this off?”

Sansa bites her bottom lip, feeling the dull irritation of that tone Margaery uses on her when she wants Sansa to do something. The look on her face is so smug, it bothers her to no end. As the smirk grows, Sansa finally figures out how to wipe it off Margaery’s face.

Sansa ducks her head and closes the distance between their lips. She listens as Margaery makes a surprised squeak as soon as Sansa kisses her. She has to hold Margaery up as her roommate tries to meet her height. And _fuck_ , Margaery’s annoying mouth stops smirking for once.

When she pulls back for air, Margaery is in her arms struggling to catch her breath. Her hair is slightly mussed. _Hell, Margaery looks hot._

Margaery’s eyes are darker than before as she meets Sansa’s eyes. It sends another wave of arousal across her body. Then Margaery reaches up to cup Sansa’s cheeks in her hand and pulls her down for another searing kiss.

Sansa could care less if Margaery tells her what’s wrong anymore because she feels the frustration she’s held onto for Margaery slip away as their lips move deliciously towards each other.

She can’t tell who moans first but her hands slide down Margaery’s waist down to cup her ass. _Why do girls even keep going off about how good Margaery is anyways?_ Suddenly Margaery’s hand is slipping under her shirt and gently caressing a path towards her breast. Her eyes roll back as the shorter girl’s thumb brushes her hardened nipple. _Fuck_. _Anyone can do that._

With a tug of her nipple, Sansa moans louder than before and Margaery swallows it before biting at her bottom lip. She feels a shiver down her spine. Jealous of Margaery’s hand against her, Sansa slides her hands underneath the hem of Margaery’s dress and pushes it up to grab her ass roughly. _Fucking, hate you._

She finds satisfaction in Margaery whimpering at the touches. _I wonder what other sounds she makes._

Sansa bravely slips one hand between them, feeling the waistband of her lacy panties. Margaery gasps this time and keens to the touch.

“Fuck, Sansa,” she breathlessly gasps. Her hand comes out from under Sansa’s shirt and tugs roughly. “I didn’t know you were gay. Fuck.”

Sansa raises an eyebrow at her roommate this time. For a second, she’s at a loss of words. She hadn’t even thought of that and it makes her laugh. The only thing she can say is, “You _really_ annoy me.”

Margaery laughs at this too and pulls her back into a deeper kiss than before. Her tongue slides against her bottom lip before slipping in. She does this flick that causes their lips to dance and Sansa groans. _Okay, **okay**. She’s really good at kissing._

Their lips never part as they do a dance towards Margaery’s bed. The back of Sansa’s knees hit the end of Margaery’s bed and they fall in a tumble. Margaery moves to straddle her and sits up on her lap.

“Want to back out, _Sansa_?” Margaery asks carefully as she begins unbuttoning her pajama top.

Sansa thinks about it for a moment. Margaery Tyrell, her annoying roommate, is straddling her, hair mussed, lips bruised, and dress askew. She smirks. “Not at all, _Margaery_ ,” she croons as she sits up to tug at the hem of Margaery’s dress. She pushes it off and throws it across the room.

_Go figure, of course, the princess has a matching lingerie set._ “Wouldn’t want your outfit to go to waste,” Sansa says admiring the lace pattern against Margaery’s breasts as her hands come up to cup her.

Margaery rolls her hips and holds Sansa’s hands against her breasts. “How considerate.” She visibly shivers as Sansa moves her hand over the tops of her breasts before reaching for the straps and flipping them down. Her nipples erect against the cold air.

Sansa leans forward and holds one of Margaery’s globes towards her mouth and licks tentatively. She listens as her roommate mewls. “Never took you for someone to enjoy foreplay.” Sansa teases with her breath before sucking on Margaery’s breast gratuitously, switching from kneading to kissing alternately.

Margaery grinds her hips against Sansa’s wanting to feel more of her. “You’ve imagined me having sex?” she manages to ask. “Oh! _Oh_!”

Sansa lets the blush race across her cheeks. She pulls back to stare at the girl on her lap. She’d be lying if she hadn’t thought of Margaery sexually. Margaery was a thorn in her side, a beautiful rose _with_ thorns to be correct. “How can I not?” Sansa admits. She can blame it on the alcohol in the morning.

Margaery’s smirk comes back and Sansa is instantly irritated on sight. Margaery knows this too because she’s smirking the whole damn time as she finishes unbuttoning Sansa’s pajama top and rips it off her shoulder to throw over her shoulders. Sansa doesn’t protest as Margaery’s pushes at her shoulder to lay back down.

“What do you imagine I’m doing?” Margaery asks mischievously. A hand caresses Sansa’s bare torso slowly, leaving goose flesh in its wake. Sansa feels the wetness growing between her thighs and squeezes them together to relieve some pressure.

For someone Sansa hated, Margaery was good at eliciting reactions from her.

“It’s what **I** do to _you_ ,” Sansa growls as she reaches for Margaery’s wrists.

Margaery avoids her grasp and wiggles a finger at her. “Oh, you’re naughty,” she says with mirth. She wriggles down the taller girl’s body and tugs at the pajama bottoms, hooking her fingers underneath the waistband of her underwear to pull them both off quickly.

Sansa gasps at the cool air against her hot center. “And you’re _irritating_ ,” she grumbles as her hips rise to meet the warmth of Margaery’s breath. She throws her head back against Margaery’s pillow in frustration. “I am _so cross_ with you.”

Her vexation slips out of thought as Margaery licks a broad swipe against her entrance. Sansa screams a curse, not expecting it to feel _that_ good. She’s pissed. Because she can feel Margaery’s smirk _against_ her pussy as she kisses and licks.

Sansa wants to make a snide comment. She’s being teased and that’s all. Margaery licks her entrance and sucks on her nub generously before pushing two fingers in. Her hips jump and Margaery’s other hand holds her down. Sansa curses over and over in her head as she feels her roommate’s fingers move in and out of her. She does this thing with her tongue that actually starts to drive Sansa wild. She feels herself coming, her pussy is straining to pull Margaery’s fingers deeper.

“You close?” Margaery’s voice comes out husky and it turns her on even more. Her roommate places a gentle kiss on her thigh as she nods. Margaery curls her fingers and pushes in more powerfully that it feels so deep.

Sansa comes loudly yelling Margaery’s name. Just as she thinks Margaery is done, she feels Margaery uncurl her fingers, massaging her walls as they flutter around her fingers. A third finger enters her and Margaery moans as Sansa squeezes tightly, legs shaking at the intrusion.

Margaery comes up to kiss her as her three fingers stretch her wide. The smirk is on her lips and it bothers Sansa to no end.

“God, _I hate you_ ,” Sansa growls as she nips at Margaery’s bottom lip. “You and your irritating smirk.”

“Oh?” Margaery responds cheekily.

Just as Sansa opens her mouth to respond, her lips fall into and O as she comes again, staring into Margaery’s shining eyes. She shuts her eyes as she falls back into the pillows, breathless.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hears Margaery laughs as she pulls her fingers out, “ _you_.” Sansa inhales deeply and opens her eyes to Margaery licking her fingers of her juices.

_That’s enough then._ Sansa seizes her opportunity and flips them over. Margaery falls against her pillow with a gasp.

Sansa is determined to get that smirk off of her face. She all but rips off Margaery’s lacy panties and throws them aside. She pushes her legs apart and lets her fingers glide between her wet folds. Margaery moans weakly as she tries to pull Sansa in for a kiss.

Sansa ducks her head, not wanting to feel the smirk against her lips, and aims for Margaery’s neck. She feels Margaery’s legs wrap around her waist giving her better access as she sucks on the pounding pulse point. Feeling Margaery’s hips roll, Sansa pushes two fingers into her without much preamble and feels Margaery arch her back towards her. She nips her way towards the base of the shorter girl’s neck and pushes into her with her own body.

There’s a low thump and Sansa picks up her head realize the headboard hit the wall. _Fuck_. Then she sees Margaery’s face. Her pupils are blown and she’s gasping for air as Sansa continues to push into her. The low rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall continues and Margaery’s moaning bounces off the walls.

For someone with a loud personality, Margaery was surprisingly _quieter_ than Sansa had expected. Sansa curses herself for screaming earlier. She’ll save that for another time because at least right now, Margaery looks completely debauched underneath her. Golden brown hair fanning out on the pillow and breasts bouncing as Sansa pushes in and out.

“More, more,” Margaery breathes out raggedly, “ _Sansa_ , _please_.”

Sansa reacts to her name with her ears perked. “You’re so sexy, Margaery,” she growls as she pushes in another finger. Her thumb presses against her clit and rubs back and forth.

Margaery’s mouth falls open and the moans are strangled in her throat. She reaches back to grab the headboard while her back arches. Sansa can feel her coming against her fingers, juices coating them. Margaery rides her orgasm quietly whimpering as Sansa pushes in and out until she’s completely done.

Sansa exhales as she pulls out her fingers. Margaery’s slickness shines on her fingers and she smirks as she wipes them on Margaery’s sheets. She looks at the girl beneath her. Margaery has an arm thrown across her face, breathing in and out slowly, even though her stomach is trembling.

Tired, Sansa falls next to Margaery on the small twin sized bed. After a moment, Sansa asks, “Are you alright?”

Margaery nods. “Give me a second,” she mutters.

Sansa nods, which is stupid because Margaery has her eyes shut. As she lays there next to Margaery, she doesn’t feel as angry as she was earlier that morning. She feels sated in more ways that one. She turns to stare at her roommate and notices the hickeys on her neck.

Sansa leans in and kisses them gently as an apology. Margaery’s breathing becomes ragged again. Margaery turns her head to capture Sansa’s lips. This time their kisses are slow and sensual. It’s like they’re trained to one another.

“I haven’t come that hard in a long time,” Margaery admits sleepily.

Sansa can’t say anything as she drifts to sleep with Margaery curled against her and a smirk on her lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of my Holiday Writing Dash at nocteverbascio.tumblr


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